


So Much As A Splinter...

by Garnet_EveSky



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Flynn is a Brat, Held Down, Kinkbingo2020, M/M, Mathias Has Had Enough, Punishment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:15:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24377104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Garnet_EveSky/pseuds/Garnet_EveSky
Summary: When Fairwind stuffs up one too many missions, Shaw has had enough and takes responsibility for Fairwind's rehabilitation.
Relationships: Flynn Fairwind/Mathias Shaw
Comments: 4
Kudos: 60





	So Much As A Splinter...

**Author's Note:**

> Written for my 4th Kink Bingo square - Held Down.  
> Contains punishment in the form of Mathias' dick.

“It wasn't as if we died, right Mattie?”

“Shut. Up.” Shaw ground out between clenched teeth.

“Aww c'mon, a few scrapes, a few bruises…not much…” Flynn dusted his jacket off as though he were dusting off said scrapes and bruises.

“It's scrapes and bruises with you every. Single. Time.” Shaw bit back.

“That's not true, remember that nasty sand scarab in Vol’Dun?”

Shaw covered his eyes with one gloved hand, “That sand scarab sliced Briothers' leg clean off.”.

“Okay okay, what about the time when we found that unmarked graveyard in Drustvar? No scrapes or bruises then.” Flynn raised his finger as if he was pointing out some miracle.

“That was a curse...a curse that you tripped and I suffered from.” The spymaster grabbed Flynn by the arm at this, dragging the ex-pirate behind him through Tradewinds Market.

“But no scrapes or bruises right?” Flynn grinned, tripping slightly over a raised cobblestone before righting himself with his spare hand on Mathias’ shoulder.

“You have a knack for finding trouble no matter where you go.” Shaw gave him a pointed look at his stumble, “And it's not even you who suffers.”

“Hey, it's not my fault you pushed me out of the way at the last second.” Flynn grumbled, remembering how Shaw had not been able to see for hours after that one.

“It's my responsibility to ensure people get home safe. And you keep fucking it up. No matter what I do.”

“Hey now, that's not fair…” Flynn protested, stopping dead on the gangplank leading to the MIddenwake.

Shaw leaned in and quietly growled in Flynn’s ear, lest his crew heard, “No matter the punishment, you still insist on fucking up!” 

“But…”

“No more excuses, Flynn...You've pushed it too far.” He dragged the captain towards the forecastle, and through the door leading to his quarters.  
“What? You gonna whip me? A bit of keelhauling?” Flynn laughed, “Hate to tell ya mate, but that hasn't exactly worked for me in the past.”

“That's not what your punishment is going to be this time.” Shaw replied, walking down the corridor, “Keep walking.”

Flynn gulped, “Prison? hard labour?”

“Shut. Up.” Shaw pushes him through the doorway to his quarters, closing the door loudly behind them.

“Am I supposed to be your chambermaid now?”

Shaw put his hands on his hips, clearly not impressed with Flynn’s chatter. “Strip.”  
Flynn blinked, “...What…”

“It's a simple instruction, Fairwind. Strip.” Shaw repeated the command.

Flynn didn’t move.

“You can either strip now or I'll do it for you.” Shaw took a step towards the man.

“Not that I'd argue with that, but I think i'd like my clothes left intact thanks,” Flynn began taking his clothes off, hanging them over the chair in the corner, Shaw watching with an impassive face.

When Flynn stood there, hands covering his pride, and blushing lightly, “So uh...now what?”

Shaw moved to the captain’s desk, moving what meager paperwork was on it to the floor, “You be quiet. Bend over, hands on the desk.”

“Bit kinky but okay.”

Flynn complied without protest this time, and Shaw moved out of sight, a few feet behind where Flynn is bent over the desk, squirming. The ex-pirate opened his mouth to say something, then thought better of it, closing it again, shuffling from foot to foot to relieve the strain in his legs.

Shaw noticed his interest showing between his legs. It's wasn’t something that was hard or long...not yet...and as Shaw watched, it gave a twitch and pulsed a little longer and thicker.

“Really?” Shaw asked in disbelief, “You're standing there naked, about to be punished, and it's turning you on?”

“Can't help what I can't help Mattie,” Flynn said with a wink in his direction, but his hands were still firmly on the table, legs spread and cock almost all the way had and damn Flynn is a grower, just like Edwin, and that's a thought Shaw doesn't really need right now. 

This was supposed to be a punishment, to make Fairwind squirm a bit, embarrass him until he caves and promises he’ll be more careful out in the field, but Flynn is making this hard...err ..difficult...and Shaw supposes he can work with it, and adapts his plan.

Mathias isn’t unaffected after all, Flynn has a strong back, scars horizontal and diagonally across, probably from whips in his younger days, and the muscles he’s built up from tough life on the seas make Shaw’s blood run hot. 

Flynn mumbles something under his breath that Shaw doesn’t quite catch, and Shaw makes a questioning noise, hoping the ex-pirate will answer.

“Cause of you…’ Flynn managed before his head hung between his shoulders and he released a long shaky breath.

Shaw’s a little taken aback by the admission, but recovers quickly, mind racing ahead, “You’re saying that you’ve been stuffing up cause you can’t keep your mind out of the bedroom?”

Flynn shook his head.

Shaw pushed down between the naked mans’ shoulder blades, and Flynn goes willingly enough, until his chest is pressed along the bare desk, hands by his head, and his bare ass sticking out.

With one hand still on Flynn's back, Shaw shoves two fingers in the mans’ mouth. 

“Suck.”

Immediately, Flynn tongues the digits in his mouth, moaning as he does, and Mathias twitches in his pants - it’s like the man is trying to give head to his fingers, but Shaw isn’t that easily distracted.

“Get them nice and wet - this is the only lube you’re gonna get,” Shaw grunts roughly in Flynn’s ear, shoving his fingers in a little deeper. Flynn groans at that, and redoubles his efforts. 

Of course, Shaw isn’t a monster, even if this is supposed to be a ‘punishment’. He removes his fingers from his captives’ mouth, the light scrape of teeth the only protest he receives as Flynn moves his legs to accommodate shaw. Mathias reaches into the desk drawer beside him and grabs hold of a small bottle of oil, for his blades, of course, so they don’t get rusty, and pours a generous amount in the hand that Flynn had been sucking on.  
Spreading Flynn's cheeks with his spare hand, and moving two fingers to the puckered entrance, he spreads the slick around before shoving in hard.

Flynn grunts with the intrusion, but almost immediately, he is pressing back to get more of the Spymasters’ fingers inside him.

Shaw’s cock grows in his pants, and he shifts uncomfortably as he stretches his fingers inside Flynn, stretching him perfunctory before opening his trousers and freeing his now straining cock.

Flynn is babbling nonsense into the tabletop beneath him, and Shaw gives it no mind - pleas and begging falls from his lips and his fingers scrabble to find purchase as Shaw removes his fingers and lines his cock up. 

Flynn whines at the loss, and Mathias growls, “No more bruises. No more scrapes. No more fucking up.”

“Whatever you want, Mattie please just, please just do it.” Flynn almost cries out.

“Do what?”

“Punish me.” Flynn breathes.

Slowly Mathias pushes inside Flynn's tight entrance, closing his eyes as the heat overwhelms him for a moment, and stills. Flynn shoves back in protest, but Shaw puts his hand on Flynn’s back, pushing the younger man back to the desk with more force.

“You’ll take what I give you, and you’ll be grateful for it,” Shaw grits out. Flynn whines, but stays put.

Shaw sets a brutal pace, setting his teeth on edge, and making his vision grey out at the corners. Flynn is desperate, fingers curling into fists, eyes closed, mouth open, drool pooling below his cheek. He’s babbling nonsense with every breath, and Shaw can feel his overheated skin beneath his palm on his back and where his other hand is resting on his hip, and it was almost everything Shaw had wanted physically from Flynn for a long time - from the first time Shaw had seen the captain working with the ropes on azerite missions, bare chested and sweating alongside the crew while Mathias had sat in the cabin working on reports and maps on one of the first days he had been stationed in Kul Tiras. Flynn had caught Mathias looking, and given him a toothy grin with a glint in his eye, and Mathias thought it best if he kept his eyes on his work from then on lest he be distracted from his work.

But now Shaw can look his fill, feel the sweaty skin heave with each breath, listen to the broken moans and sighs, and Shaw believes this all might have been worth it.

He reaches around, finding Flynns leaking cock, hard and heavy between his legs, and swipes the pre across the swollen head, Flynn doubles his begging and pleading, “I love it when you punish me like this Mattie,” he ground in one long breath, “Fillin’ me up good and proper like some disobedient freebooter doin you wrong,”

Shaw huffed out a laugh, hand massaging the hard length, “Keep going, Flynn, and maybe you’ll learn your lesson,”

“What lesson are you tryin to teach me?” Flynn blinked, eyeing the spy side on, “besides that fucking me through the table is something you’ve wanted since you first saw me??”

Shaw stopped dead, and Flynn whined high in his throat, trying to push back onto Shaw, to deepen the contact, thrusting forward into Shaw’s fist, but Shaw removed his hand.  
“That if you so much as get a splinter, this will never happen again.” He growled, stepping back, cock falling from the now gaping channel.

Flynn cried out at the sudden loss, slamming his fist on the table, “Dammit Shaw!” he shouted, “I’ll do whatever you say...just...just…”, again Flynn slammed his fist on the table, “Just put it back in me and let me come!”

“Careful, Captain,” Shaw mouthed Flynn’s jaw, licking up a bead of sweat as he did so, “You don’t want me to decide you can’t be rehabilitated do you?”

Flynn shook his head frantically, and stopped moving, so Shaw rewarded him with three fingers thrust back into Flynn’s slick and open hole, moving fast, his fist on the captain’s weeping length continuing to stroke, just this side of too rough, Flynns back bowing as he shuddered with a howl, came over Shaw’s fingers, painting the floor with his seed.

Shaw took himself in hand, his hardness still slick with oil, jerking himself off with the added fluid of Flynn’s release, his hand still pressing down hard in the middle of the ex-pirates back, before he came hard across Flynn’s asscheeks.

“So when you said ‘so much as a splinter,” Flynn started, lifting his head and looking at the red faced Spymaster, he lifted his hand, finger raised with a dark line under the skin, “You meant out in the field, right?”.


End file.
